


Black Hand

by vaderina



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Meet-not so cute, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, poor Percival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 13:38:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15414132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaderina/pseuds/vaderina
Summary: In a universe where your soulmate's first touch was the black print of their hand Percival was cursed. His was right across his face as though he'd been slapped. It didn't bode well for his first encounter with his soulmate.





	Black Hand

The universe had a peculiar way of being cruel. Soulmarks were meant to be revered, their appearance a special moment in any teenager’s life. Except for Percival’s, he woke up one morning and the boys in his dormitory gasped, frowned and shied away from him. His soulmark had appeared overnight, it didn’t fade into existence like a lot of people’s it was there in a black darker than any abyss. His hand print was across his face, in the perfect shape of a slap. The stigma that went with it was crushing. People didn’t want to be seen with him, the boy whose soulmate’s first encounter started with a slap.

It took a few years for Percival to master the charm that hid his soulmark, that returned his face to the unmarred looks of before. But by then everyone in the school knew he was destined for an unhappy first meeting so likely to be one of the rare ones whose soulmate didn’t stick around. Some night Percival watched in the dining hall as people looked at their own soulmarks, black palms from a handshake, a hand curled across a shoulder and they tried to figure out just how it would happen. Bitter jealousy ate away at him. Percival didn’t need a soulmate, he didn’t need anyone. Instead of wasting time on worrying about his future love life Percival studied, if his personal life wasn’t going to be a roaring success then at least his working life was.

To an extent his career did become a stellar example of what could be achieved. People whispered about the lack of his soulmark and he never dissuaded them from the gossip that he had no match. Some people joked about it being in a crude place, their boss so in love with his work that he would only find his match down a dark alley for a quick handjob. Their jibes didn’t matter, nor the insinuation that people should start groping him in the hopes of finding the soulmark on a thigh or buttock. People with black handprints around their wrists grinned at him as they tried but the blackness was never covered by Percival’s own hand. Nobody was truly disappointed by that though and Percival slowly got used to it too.

Perhaps the biggest relief for Percival came when Grindelwald abducted him and the first place the man touched was around his throat and not his face. It was difficult to say what Percival would have done if Grindelwald had turned out to be his soulmate. Though he definitely wouldn’t have allied with Grindelwald that was for sure.

Keeping the glamour charm in place to hide his soulmark was difficult and in the end sat rather low on Percival’s list of priorities in the face of torture. Things like breathing, occlumency shields and not rising to Grindelwald’s taunts were more important. Some days though Percival did wish he could have hidden his soulmark better. When he’d first broken Grindelwald had been delighted in the discovery of the black handprint across his cheek. Since then he’d enjoyed trying to predict the various ways Percival and his soulmate could have met. It was always a whimsical could have been scenario because Grindelwald liked to tell him how he’d saved Percival from an embarrassing meeting. Because of Grindelwald he’d never meet his soulmate. The scenarios Grindelwald imagined became more and more ridiculous, humiliating and degrading. The only common thing they had was that they all ended in a slap. Grindelwald’s hand a little too broad, fingers too short to be a match for the soulmark but it hurt nonetheless.

The day Grindelwald stopped coming was at first a relief. There was no pain that day, no reminder that Percival’s soulmate was going to slap him at first touch. However, there was also no food, no water and no help coming. Percival knew he had three days without those but no matter what he did he couldn’t escape his shackles. By the end of the first day Percival’s wrists were bloody and his determination was ebbing. He’d wasted enough energy on trying to escape and he’d made no progress so the only thing left to do was conserve what little he had along with his dignity and wait for a rescue. After a night of less fitful sleep he woke and tested his magic. There was enough of a spark that he could put the glamour back in place and hide his soulmark. At least that way his subordinates wouldn’t have to see that.

Percival sat and waited and listened. His prison was silent until the soft thump of footsteps drew closer. They were hurried, rapid in their cadence which made it difficult for them to approach silently. The door opened and Percival struggled to his feet to greet his rescuer.

“There you are,” the stranger said, blue coat flapping behind him as he picked his way across the room, “Tina I found him!”

It meant his aurors were looking for him and Percival sagged in relief. The stranger caught him, an arm around his waist and a hand came up to cup his cheek, worried eyes seeking out his.

“Woah there, you’re okay,” he said, “I’m Newt and we’ll get you out of here in a jiffy.”

There was a gasp from the doorway, Tina stood there with wide eyes and Percival relaxed his grip on Newt’s wrist. They both looked down at where his hand was curled, thumb up the back of Newt’s hand, index finger brushing against his palm. As Percival peeled back his hand the smudges of an inky black handprint revealed themselves. Sheepishly Percival blinked up at Newt and let his glamour fall away. The hand that had cupped his cheek pulled away.

Mesmerised Newt ran his thumb over the perfect match of his handprint and he smiled softly. The universe had a peculiar way of being cruel, letting soulmarks parade as slaps when in reality they were a caress.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr's the place to nudge me - @ladyoftheshrimp


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